


open my hands and let them weave onto yours

by winterwinds



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-01
Updated: 2012-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 16:25:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwinds/pseuds/winterwinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>seven one sentence fics for various genres; written for sabotensan's challenge at tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	open my hands and let them weave onto yours

**romance**  
she slips under the covers next to him (she'd told him she wouldn't, but how could she resist when it was all so irresistible?), loves the heat that's coming in waves from his body, and she just fits next to him; he wakes, mumbles _Knew you couldn't stay away_ and he turns to face her in the dark and she kisses the tip of his nose because she can't find his lips and he chuckles and it's so warm.

**hurt/comfort**  
they've found a cave to shelter from the storm raging in the riverlands, more than half of the Brotherhood asleep and he can't find her on a first glance; but then he sees her, alone, tucked away in a crevice; her legs are pressed against her chest, arms around them and she's not crying (doesn't cry), but he can see it, how little (how fragile) she looks in her misery so he does what he can - sits next to her, puts his arm around her small, small frame and he knows she appreciates it by the way she leans into him.

**fluff**  
 _Here_ , he says and he has in his hand a winter rose from the gardens, and she wants to frown and call him stupid (like she always did when she was but a little girl); she doesn't though because he looks sheepish so she reaches for it, buries her nose in it; and his blue eyes, clear in contrast to the gray sky of the north, tell her all she's ever needed to know.

**AU**  
she winks and he chuckles (and it surprises him, how she makes him feel so alive), and he says _I'll call you?!_ , like that, like a question, and she replies _Not if I call you first_ with a smile but she won't - she'll wait and not for very long.

**smut**  
she would moan against his lips, her heart would quicken as his hands would slowly make their way up the inside of her thighs (so close, so close and she'd beg him to enter her) and she'd whisper his name like a sigh ( _Gendry_ ).

**friendship**  
he's lying on his back in the godswood (a place of peace, something bigger than himself even if he doesn't really believe) when he gets the feeling that he's not alone and sure enough, suddenly she's on her back next to him; she grabs his hand and they lie next to each other, silent and content, and it all makes sense, for those stolen hours beneath the white weirwood.

**angst**  
she promised herself she wouldn't cry ( _don't cry_ ), but seeing his body broken, his blue eyes unseeing, a trickle of dried blood by his chapped lips, she falls on her knees next to his body, cups his cheeks and she kisses every bit of cold skin she comes across, and she cries, she cries, she's crying.


End file.
